Three Small Words
by LateNiteSlacker
Summary: When you were little, your kindergarten teacher gave you a homework assignment. Write three sentences, three things that you love. Your sentences only needed to be three words long. Spelling didn't matter. Periods were optional. You wrote the entire thing in blue crayon. I LOV JOKS I LOV MOOVEES I LOV DAV


**Three Small Words**

* * *

When you were little, your kindergarten teacher gave you a homework assignment. Write three sentences, three things that you love. Your sentences only needed to be three words long.

Spelling didn't matter. Periods were optional. You wrote the entire thing in blue crayon.

I LOV JOKS

I LOV MOOVEES

I LOV DAV

You still remember the look on your dad's face when you proudly showed him that you could write. When he first looked at you, there was something in his eyes you didn't recognize. You were confused and a little worried that you did a bad job writing. But your unease melted away when he swept you up into his arms. With a big smile on his face, he told you, "I'm so proud of you, son."

When you were little, you told Dave you loved him all the time. Dave told you he loved you too. Dave was your best friend. Of course you loved him.

And when you were little, nobody seemed to care. Your teacher just smiled at you. The other kids were too busy eating paste to think about you two.

Dave's older brother heard you tell Dave you loved him once. He used a word you never heard before when he said, "too fuckin' cute."

After you asked your dad what a "fuckin'" was later, you weren't allowed to play over at Dave's house for a while. But Dave still came over to yours every day after school.

Grade school flew by. You and Dave were inseparable. You did everything together. By some stroke of luck, you were in the same class with each other every year.

And though some things never changed, one thing did.

Somewhere along the line, you stopped telling Dave you loved him. Dave stopped too.

You weren't really sure who stopped saying it first. You thought it was probably Dave, because he was always so caught up with being ironic and cool.

You guessed it wasn't cool to tell people you loved them.

And you guessed it never got cool again.

In Jr. High and High school, you tried to take as many classes as you could with Dave. He got you to take a photography class, which you hated. You got him to take AP Biology, which he hated. You guessed it was fair in the end.

You had other friends too, but you wouldn't say you were as close to any of them as you were to Dave. Karkat came close, but ugh did his taste in movies suck! One time, Karkat managed to drag you and Dave to one of those awful romantic comedies in the theaters. While you were watching the boring screenplay between the guy and the girl he was obviously going to get together with in the end, you came to realize something.

You realized that telling someone you love them was more than just telling someone they were your good friend. It was more than telling someone they were your _best_ friend. It was something special. Something that you shouldn't just say to everyone you know.

When the realization hit your head, you glanced over at Dave. He was still wearing those silly sunglasses you got him for his birthday a few years ago, even though it was so dark in the movie theater. You wondered how he could even see. You definitely couldn't see what he was looking at, or if he had come to the same realization as you just did.

But Dave was always faster with this kind of thing. You think it's because his older Bro actually answered some of his questions growing up instead of baking him cakes all the time like your Dad.

"Dad, why do we exist?"

Cake.

"Dad, how are babies born?"

Cake.

So your dad's response the next day was really no surprise to you when you asked him, "Dad, how do you know if you love someone?"

You swore you smelled the cake baking before you could even finish your sentence.

You thought a lot about love after that. You watched Dave's back intently as you sat together in your classes. You stole a lot of glances at him and sat in more silence than usual. Your AP biology teacher even asked you to stay after class to see if something was wrong. You assured him that everything was just fine.

Of course, Dave noticed you were acting off too. He asked you if things were ok in that way of his where he didn't actually ask you but he said something to make you think that he was asking it. Dave was such a dork, but you loved that about him.

You paused right after thinking that thought. There it was again. Love.

You told him nothing was wrong too, but you didn't think he completely believed that.

The months passed, and you thought about love more and more. You didn't think that you loved Dave any less than you did when you were children. He was still your best friend. You felt completely open with him, like you could tell him anything.

Except this apparently. This was something you had to figure out on your own. You're not sure why, but you just _knew_ you had to get your answers together before you talked about this with Dave.

But you never got your answers together. Before you knew it, high school was over, and you were both going off to college.

Your dad was so proud of you when you received the acceptance letter from Yale. Dave was too. He took you out to dinner and a movie to celebrate. He invited all your friends, and you all had a great time.

But only you could tell that something was wrong with Dave. That even though he was really happy for you, _he_ wasn't happy.

You didn't find out why until a week before you were ready to leave for college.

"I'm going to the University of Southern California for film," Dave said, his expression blank as usual.

Your eyes widened with both happiness and horror. You wanted to shout at the same time "BUT THAT'S ACROSS THE COUNTRY!" and "CONGRATULATIONS!"

What ended up coming out of your mouth was a shaky, "o-oh wow! Congrats Dave!"

You knew that Dave had been trying hard to get into a top film school, and you knew that in California he would be able to make the connections he would need to be successful in his career.

For that last week before you left, you debated talking to Dave about the question that had burned in your mind the last few months. How did you feel about him? Did you love him? Did he love you?

But before you knew it, the week was gone, and so were you.

For the first few months, your heart ached. You were busier than you had ever been, studying at Yale. You volunteered for all the major research projects. You got a name for yourself before you had even graduated.

But every day, you missed Dave. You talked to him on the phone occasionally, but the phone-calls were becoming less frequent. You talked to him over pesterchum, and you texted him, but even those were becoming short few-line conversations.

You missed the boy that you had grown up with.

A few times, you cried to your dad on the phone about it. Though you didn't believe him, he assured you that it was normal to miss your friends and that you would make new friends at school.

You did. You were always personable and friendly, and people seemed to flock to you. Before you knew it, you had another group of great friends. After going to the movies with a bunch of them, one of your new friends nudged you with his elbow and said, "so you and Vriska, huh?"

You didn't know how to take that. "She's pretty great!"

He laughed and said, "dude, don't be a dunce. She _loves_ you."

There it was again. That word. Love.

You looked at Vriska, the beautiful sexy girl that you had come to know for the last few years. When you were with her, your heart didn't ache for Dave as much. She was so mean to you sometimes, but you knew she didn't really mean it. She made you laugh after years of sorrow.

You thought about love. You thought about Dave. You thought about Vriska.

For the first time in your life, you were lost.

A few months later, you started dating Vriska. She was beautiful. She was sexy. She was fun.

And you were starting to think that perhaps this was love. This was that thing your dad baked you all those cakes about. This was the deep gravitating emotion that featured in all of Karkat's rom-coms. This was the feeling that you wondered if you felt for Dave.

And again, you thought about him. And you didn't. When you thought about Dave, you still didn't know what to think. You didn't think you were wrong, all those years ago when you told him you loved him as a child. And you didn't think he was wrong either.

So you did what you always did. You tried not to think about it. You buried those questionable feelings deep away.

Dave noticed your relationship. He must have seen a picture someone posted on Facebook, because he texted you a short "congrats you written out your wedding vows already?"

You didn't know why, but something about that text struck you the wrong way. Even though it sounded like Dave was being ironic as usual, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more meaning packed behind that text. Somehow you knew that Dave wasn't happy.

You didn't respond to him.

It shouldn't have come to a great shock to you when you started seeing the pictures on Dave's Facebook. He always took roughly a billion selfies of himself, but recently there was another girl that started featuring in his selfies. Facebook told you her name was Terezi.

Facebook told you a few months later when Dave started a relationship with Terezi.

Something within you was deeply sad. For several minutes, you sat and stared at the screen. The impersonal little blue heart next to their pictures meant they loved each other, right?

Was that what you had with Vriska?

You debated sending Dave a text, much like the one he sent you. You didn't. Instead, an hour later, you changed your relationship status, telling the world that you were in a relationship with Vriska.

Dave didn't text you congrats this time.

Vriska was delighted. She instantly changed her relationship status too. You started going out more with her. You got even more physical with her.

You lost your innocence to her.

It wasn't until a few weeks later that you understood the gravity of what you had done.

"I'm pregnant," Vriska told you, as if it was no big deal. She was sitting casually on your bed, flipping her hair as if she didn't have a care in the world.

But suddenly, you felt the entirety of your world crash down on you. This was serious. This was Dad-cake-worthy news. This had implications you could never ignore.

Suddenly, you didn't have time to think about Dave anymore. Graduation was only a few short months away. Between finishing up all of your research projects and attending Vriska's prenatal doctor appointments, you were busier than ever before.

The months flew by, and both you and Vriska graduated from college. You got a little apartment near the university, where you accepted a lab job. It wasn't the glorious job you had wanted originally, but you knew that you would need the money soon.

You were right. You found out a few months later that babies were expensive.

You let Vriska name him. She chose to name him Jake. At first you were too freaked out to take much of a role in anything, but it didn't take you long to come to deeply love your son. You knew that he was going to grow up to be something extraordinary, and you loved him from the bottom of your heart.

This was love. You were certain of it this time. This was real love.

Your dad insisted that you do things properly. He wouldn't have any grandchild of his growing up without properly married parents, and though you didn't really see his reasoning, you humored him and went through with it anyway.

Weddings, you found out, were a giant ordeal. For the first time in a while, you got to see your friends from home. Though you had many friends by this point, you knew exactly who you wanted by your side through all of this.

Dave flew in to be your best man.

Two nights before your wedding, he took you out for a night on the town. He invited all your friends, new and old, and you had a great time. By the end of the evening, you had seen more stripper boobs than you cared to count, and you were wasted beyond all belief.

You're not sure why you drank that much. Some of it was probably peer pressure from your friends constantly buying you shots, but something about it was also sweet bliss. The more you drank, the less you thought about everything. The less real this world was.

The less you had to think about marrying Vriska.

You're not sure when the night ended, but somehow you woke up on a couch in an unfamiliar hotel room. Your head was trying to split itself open with a headache, and your stomach felt a little sick. But both of those things became minor when you looked around and found Dave sleeping on a chair next to you.

He still had his shades on. His hair was a mess from the evening, and his nice clothes were all wrinkled.

But he was still beautiful, and you loved him all the same.

Wait. Love?

And _beautiful_? Since when did you start thinking _that_?

You groaned, clutching your head in your hands. The noise woke up Dave, who turned sleepily to you and asked, "you gonna be sick again?"

You shook your head and murmured, "I don't think so."

"Oh good. About fuckin' time," he yawned and took a couple seconds to run his fingers through his hair. Deciding that there was no fixing it, he gave up and turned back to you. "You have a good night? Besides the puking."

"Yeah. I don't remember the puking," you admitted sheepishly.

"S'better that way," he sighed back.

"I'm sorry you got stuck taking care of me," you said after a while.

Dave looked at you, and even though you couldn't see his eyes behind those shades, you knew that he was thinking something. Something deep. You expected him to say something about it, but instead when he opened his mouth all that came out was, "you can buy me a fuckin' Eiffel tower of pancakes to make up for it."

You did. You took Dave out to breakfast, and even though your head was still killing you, you spent the whole day out with Dave. You got ice cream. You saw a movie. You played pranks on random people in the mall. You found an arcade and played games with him. You spent hours just shooting the shit.

You hadn't realized just how much you missed Dave.

You caught up on everything. He also graduated and was going to start a job soon too. It seemed promising, and if he impressed the right people, he just might be able to make something of himself.

You also heard about his relationship with Terezi, which was going far better than the selfies on Facebook told you. Terezi didn't want to get married, but she did want children. Dave figured those were in the cards really soon.

You're not sure why, but something about all of that left you deeply saddened.

Your wedding day came and went faster than you expected. The day was a blur of friends and family and your dad telling you and all the guests just how proud he was of you. He baked your wedding cake himself, and just as always, you could only bring yourself to take a small bite of it. You were happy when Vriska decided to shove the cake in your face rather than feed it to you. You shoved it back in hers, and everyone laughed.

Facebook told you when Dave and Terezi had a kid. Even though Terezi had dark hair, the kid's hair was bright platinum blonde, just like Dave's. Facebook told you they named the child Dirk. It told you that Dirk was nearly your son's age, just a few months younger. Terezi must have already been pregnant at your wedding.

Time passed. Years flew by faster than you ever thought possible. Jake grew up to be an adventurous kid who always seemed to get lost. After the police brought him back twice, you gave your four year old son a cell phone and made him swear to keep it on him at all times.

Caring for Jake was trying on your already rocky relationship with Vriska. She hated her job as a financial analyst. She hated having to search for Jake every other day. She hated coming home to your tiny little apartment.

And after a while, you started to think that she hated you too.

A year later, you _knew_ she hated you.

Vriska didn't even bother looking at you anymore. When she came home, she only spoke in short little quips to you. She made you run around and find Jake whenever he ran away. She spent more time out at bars. She came home later and later.

It didn't take you long to figure out that she was cheating on you.

When you confronted her about it, she admitted it casually, flipping her hair while she sat on the bed, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She didn't like you anymore, so she was seeing another guy. Three other guys, in fact.

You didn't know what to do. You didn't know what to fucking do, so you took your seven year old son with you, packed a few bags of essentials, clothes, and food, and _drove_.

Vriska didn't try to stop you.

Jake was ecstatic. You took him to see the ocean, mountains, and more cities than he could remember. You hiked in forests and camped in caves. You let him stay up late with you in cities filled with bright lights and noise.

You told him every day just how proud you were of him and how much you loved him. When Jake finally asked where his mom was, you told him she was back at home. When he asked why she wasn't coming too, you simply told Jake that she didn't want to. Jake seemed satisfied with that answer.

You continued traveling with Jake, showing him the arid desert. He laughed with delight when you drove through a field of cactuses. He fed a prairie dog a mini carrot and watched with rapt attention as it chewed and chewed. You drove all the way until you reached the Pacific Ocean, and even though the water was freezing, you both swam in it anyway.

And finally, a few weeks after you started your road-trip, you ended up where you think you had been meaning to go the entire time. Where you had really wanted to go your whole life.

You're finally here.

Dave's house.

The place is crazy huge, and settled in the middle of Orange County, you know it must cost a fortune. With trepidation, you ring the doorbell, holding on so tightly to Jake's hand that he actually makes a small sound of protest. Sheepishly, you relax your fingers.

A few measures of some horrible rap song echo through the house. Then silence falls again.

You don't dare ring the doorbell again.

Jake shuffles impatiently from foot to foot.

And then the door opens and he's there. Wearing comfy looking red pajamas and slippers with the heads of his two characters Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff on each foot. He still has on those ridiculous shades on. "Sup?" he says.

After all this time, that's all he has to say?! Your voice is completely lost. You don't know what to say to him.

Fortunately, Jake has no such problem.

"WOW!" he exclaims. "Your house is HUGE!"

Dave quirks an eyebrow, looking down at Jake, then back up at you. "Definitely your kid. Why don't you come in instead of just standing there awkwardly, Egderp? You're making me feel awkward with your unironic levels of supreme awkwardness."

Dave turns around, leaving the door wide open, and walks back into his place. For a moment, you continue to stand awkwardly at the door, but when Jake runs inside, you have to follow him. Politely, you shut the door behind you. Your dad taught you good manners, something that is much more difficult to impress on Jake.

The inside of Dave's house is even bigger than the outside, and you're not sure how that's possible but it definitely is. He leads you to a lounge, where he reaches into a minifridge and pours a glass of something that looks suspiciously like apple juice for himself. When he offers you one, you decline.

"What you don't like bourbon?" he asks.

"Dude, that's totally apple juice," you say.

"No way. That stuffs for kids. It's for the kiddiest kids. This sexy Strider won't ever be seen with a glass of—"

"I'll have one!" Jake exclaims, grabbing the glass from Dave's hand. Your eyes widen as he takes a large gulp. Dave's probably kidding, but _what if he isn't_? Before you can grab it from him, Jake runs off.

"Relax, it was apple juice," Dave informs you quickly, pulling down the arm that you didn't realize you were reaching toward your son. When you look at Dave incredulously, he gives you a small laugh. "Yeah, I know, crazy what kids'll do to you. I'dve never given it up that easily."

"That's right," you murmur, realizing that Dave has a kid too. "Where is Dirk? And Terezi?"

"Dirk's in his workroom creating who the hell knows what. Terezi booked it a few months ago," he says calmly, in that usual way of his. But you can tell that something isn't right. Even though you haven't seen each other in years, you've known Dave long enough to know when something is bothering him.

"By booked it do you mean—" you begin.

"She left," Dave finishes. "She didn't want to get married for a reason, 'cause she wanted an easy out anytime."

Dave sighs and you feel for him. Something inside your chest is angry, _livid_, that Terezi would leave your best friend.

"She ran away with a circus clown," he says, with a small bitter chuckle. "I wish I was kidding."

"Vriska's cheating on me with three other guys," you blurt out, feeling like you have to make up for Dave's sadness somehow.

"Really?" He murmurs when he hears this. For a moment, he actually seems shocked. You've actually managed to shock Dave Strider so hard that he has no words. Then, he shakes his head, leaning back against the side of a table. "Didn't know anyone could cheat on adorable you. Egdorable."

"Oh shush, you," you laugh, shoving him lightly.

Silence again fills the room. From somewhere else in the house, you hear Jake exclaim "GADZOOKS!" A few moments later, you hear a loud crashing noise.

"I'm sorry if he breaks a lot," you murmur. "Jake's a pretty destructive kid."

Dave sighs. "You haven't met Dirk. Trust me, Jake can't break anything that hasn't already been broken, fixed, 'improved', and broken again. My house is like one puff away from being blown down. Gonna expose all those little piggies to the big bad wolf. Probably why Terezi left."

You look at Dave with concern, but you decide not to press him on the matter. Instead, you sigh, "how did it come down to this?"

"I don't know," he answers quietly.

You laugh hollowly. "We had it together. We both did."

"Correction, _you_ did," Dave says. "I've been dysfunctional since before the word existed."

"Your brother swore a lot, but he was good to you," you counter, then spread your arms out. "And just look at this giant house you live in!"

"Living in an ironically giant house and being dysfunctional are two different things. Get that through your cute little head," he comments. Then he sighs. "You know what we need to do?"

"What?"

"We need to watch a movie."

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a giant room that could be a movie theater, sitting in ultra comfortable plush seats with a giant bucket of popcorn between you and Dave and sodas bigger than your head. Like literally, the cup is so wide you have to use both of your hands to pick it up.

Dave plays Con Air, because he knows you love that film. At least, you _used_ to love that film. But now it's not so great anymore. The last time you saw that movie was at least a decade ago, and you _swear_ it was so much better than this! You frown when you get to the end. "Dave, did you change that movie?"

"Nope, it's still the same shit-tastic film it always was," he replies. Then he looks at you with grossly exaggerated shock. "Oh don't tell me, John Egbert has developed _taste_ _in movies_?"

You groan and cover your head with your hand. "Dave don't start."

"Let this day go down forever in history as the day that John Egbert has finally decided that his precious Nic Cage movies are not the holy mecca that he thought they were."

"Daaaaave—"

"The disciples shall forever walk the earth spreading the good news to the people of the world. It is written, that on this day, John Egbert—"

He shuts up when you throw a plush couch pillow at his face. That starts a very unironic pillow fight that has you both laughing by the end.

Finally you hear the noise of someone clearing his throat. You look over to see your son standing next to what you would swear looks like a miniature version of Dave's older brother, down to the very pointy shades he used to wear. You can only assume that this is Dirk. "Hey bro, you got any dinner plans, or are Jake and I on our own?"

"Jake and I?" Dave says sharply, coming to full alertness very quickly.

Now that your attention has been drawn to it, you notice how close the two are standing. Their hands are clasped together like the best of friends already. Jake beams at you and says, "Dirk's my new best-friend! He says we're going to go on great adventures together! Like to the pizza store!"

Dave pulls out his cell phone and sighs, "if pizza's what you want, I can order one. Or five."

You look sternly at Jake, "no adventures. Not today."

"Chill, I know this city like the back of my hand," Dirk assures you, sounding shockingly mature for a child that you know is only seven.

"He does, they'll be fine," Dave says, waving his hand absently. He places an order for five extra large pizzas, each with different toppings. There's no way you can eat that much, but you don't argue. He turns to Dirk and says, "half an hour."

Dirk nods and pulls Jake along by the hand. They leave and you try not to be too worried about Jake.

"He'll have a hard time running away from Dirk, little fucker is _fast_," Dave sighs, leaning back into his seat.

You sit beside him and wonder the things you have wondered all your life. You think about Jake and Dirk's joined hands. You think about the best of friendships. You think about the passage of time.

You think about love.

What you had for Vriska was definitely not love. Somehow you mistook it for love, but you guess there is more to love than just being physical with someone.

You know that what you feel for Jake is love. He is your son, and you would give anything to keep him safe. You can't count the number of nights you have gone sleepless while searching for him.

You love Jake dearly.

But that's a different type of love. What about the love in the movies? What about Karkat's rom-com love? You didn't have that with Vriska, and it looks like Dave didn't have that with Terezi. Dave wasn't married, but you were! Still are, you guess.

"Looks like you're having some pretty heavy thoughts there, Egbert. Care to fill a bro in?" Dave asks.

All these years, all of these times, you never mentioned anything about this to Dave. You never answered his question fully or truthfully. You didn't know how you felt about anything at all, and you still don't. But finally you make up your mind. To hell with it.

"Dave, what does it mean to love someone?" you ask the question as if you were asking the weather outside. Dave turns to you, but you don't dare look at him. You have to continue before you lose your nerve. "When we were kids, we used to say 'I love you' to each other all the time. But we stopped. Is it because we didn't know what we were saying? Is that because the meaning of love changed? Because I don't think it has. And Dave, I'm starting to think that it never has. That it's always been there. That I've always loved—"

Before you can say anything else, Dave has moved in front of you. His lips are on yours, and a startled muffled sound comes out of your mouth before you melt into his kiss. Dave's kiss is gentle and sweet. It's nothing at all like the kisses Vriska gave you years ago like she wanted to devour your soul.

When Dave leans in, tentatively placing an arm at your side, you are quick to entwine your arms around his body, pulling him closer to you. Dave places his knee on the cushion beside you and leans in, pressing you back against the comfy leather-bound backing of the lounge chair. His hands are in your hair and they feel _oh so nice_. His tongue is on yours, and he tastes like soda and popcorn and _Dave_.

He pulls back, leaving you slightly dazed. "I love you," Dave says simply. "I'd have never stopped saying it but you did."

"You stopped first!" you protest.

"January 5, 1996," he says suddenly.

"What?" You respond smartly.

"That was the last time you said 'I love you,'" Dave answers quietly. "I said it the next day. And then again one week later."

"You-you _kept track_?" you ask incredulously.

"Of course," he says softly. For a moment, he hesitates. Then he continues, "I always knew what it meant. Love, I mean. Bro told me a lot of things your dad never did. And he knew. He always fuckin' knew."

Your heart reaches out for him suddenly. This sad boy that you have known your whole life. Your best friend, and more.

And suddenly, it all slides into place.

Words.

Meanings.

Everything.

Love.

Slowly, a wide smile cracks on your lips. You pull off Dave's shades so that you can look into his crimson eyes. You want to see his full reaction to this.

"Dave, I love you."

You're not disappointed. Dave's beautiful red eyes widen, and his pale eyebrows raise in shock. His pupils dilate a bit, and you see the goosebumps run clear up from his arms to his neck. His cheeks are dusted with a flush that you find absolutely adorable.

And finally, he smiles back at you. A wide smile that matches your own.

"John, you don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that again," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you again.

You spend the next fifteen minutes with Dave on top of you, kissing and moaning softly with want. You gently rub his arms and then his back, working your way up to his hair where you entwine your fingers into those platinum blonde strands. You can feel your interest for him rising, creating a tightness in your pants that leaves you needy. Dave slides himself across your lap, bringing your pelvises together so that you can feel his hardness too.

He pauses for a moment, breaking off the kiss so that he can look into your eyes. Then he slowly moves his hips forward that last bit, grinding his hardness into yours. The friction fills you with even more want. Your breath catches in your throat and your eyelashes flutter as you struggle to keep them open.

Dave smiles again, and you know that was exactly what he wanted to see.

You want to do so much more with him, but the door opens, alerting you to the return of your sons. And fuck if you aren't in the most compromising position ever. You thought Dave would get off you, but he seems content to continue literally sitting in your lap letting your dicks touch each other through your clothes. He doesn't move as Dirk and Jake walk in, struggling to carry the giant pizza boxes with their tiny little kid arms.

Suddenly, you realize why Dave ordered 5 extra large pizzas. "Training," his older bro used to call it.

To your horror, Dirk leads Jake right into the theater room and sets the pizzas on a large table in front of you. Dirk doesn't seem to think anything of your compromising position. He opens up a pizza box, grabs a large piece of pepperoni pizza and starts chewing away.

Jake looks at the two of you curiously, but he is quick to follow Dirk's lead and grab a slice of pizza. Dirk turns to him and asks "what movie do you want to watch?"

"I love every movie!" Jake exclaims. It's true. He does.

Dirk picks a cheesy action film. While the boys have their attention fixed on the giant screen, Dave grins at you devilishly and rolls his hips ever so slightly, bringing your still semi-erect dicks together. You breathe out a shaky breath, then frown at him.

"L-later," you stammer softly, not wanting to bother the boys with their movie and draw attention to yourselves. You grin and finish sheepishly, "I'd hate to miss the beginning of the movie."

"Egbert, knowing you, I'd say that's true," Dave murmurs back. He leans back slightly, just enough to take that delicious friction off your dicks.

You have to stop yourself from whining at the loss of contact.

Eventually the tent in your pants settles down, and Dave moves off you, returning to his own seat. You notice that Dirk and Jake both choose to sit beside each other on the floor, even though Dave has more than enough comfortable chairs around the room.

And you notice when Jake threads his fingers happily through Dirk's on top of the rug.

Goodness, they're only seven! But you suppose you were telling Dave you loved him at five. You glance over at Dave, who looks for all purposes looks like he's intently watching the movie. A soft smile touches your lips when you think about that word now.

Love. You have a feeling you've finally found it.

You have a feeling that finally, this time, you've found love that won't leave you.

You're right.

Dave is there for you when you work through the divorce papers with Vriska.

Dave is there to help you move all your shit across the country to his place in California.

Dave is there to support you as you struggle through the PhD in biology you always wanted to get.

Dave is there to throw the biggest party known to man when you graduate and get a job at the university, running your own research projects to spearhead the way into exciting new biological fields.

And when it's all said and done, years down the line, Dave is there on one knee, asking you to marry him beneath the starlight.

How could you possibly say no?

As luck would have it, Vriska didn't want anything to do with you or Jake after your divorce. He's lived with you, Dave, and Dirk this entire time. You'd say in the last year he's become far more _affectionate_ with Dirk than you and Dave ever were with your simple "I love yous."

Jake thinks you don't know about them. You do.

When you tell Jake the news of the upcoming wedding, he looks up at you with concern. He's fifteen now, and even though he's more than capable of running off to get lost on another adventure, he hasn't. Maybe that's because Dirk is always by his side. Always making sure that they never get lost and come home safely.

"But wait," Jake says, a small frown on his lips. "If you and Dave are getting married, that would make Dirk and I _brothers_ wouldn't it?"

You know exactly why Jake is concerned, but you don't let on more than a small dad-like chuckle. Your prankster's gambit could use the lift. "Naturally! You always call Dirk your best bro. Wouldn't you be happy to finally be real bros?"

"Quite so!" he stammers, then looks around, swallowing nervously. "It's just that—well—"

You stay silent, watching him look anxiously around the room for something to focus on as he searches for the right words.

"What if I didn't want to be that sort of a bro with him?" Jake finally asks quietly. Your son looks up at you with the saddest, most imploring green eyes you have ever seen. "What if I wanted to be bro-friends with him?"

"Bro-friends?"

"Boyfriends!" Jake says loudly, then gasps, covering his mouth. Much quieter, he says, "Dad, I didn't tell you this because I didn't know what you would think of it. I asked Dirk to keep it a secret too, but we're boyfriends. We have been for a while."

Your son is almost in tears. Your prankster's gambit falls to an all-time low, and you feel bad for even starting this conversation with him. But you know that it is necessary. Gently, you sit beside him on his bed and collect him in a loving hug. "Jake, I know. I've known for a while. And I am so very _very_ proud of you."

God you sound like your dad! And for once, you really don't care.

"You are?" he asks softly.

"I am," you agree. "It takes a lot of courage to be with the person you love. I didn't have that for the first thirty years of my life. I'm sorry, but I never really loved your mother."

"I don't think she loved either of us either," Jake laughs sadly and softly. Then, he broaches the topic you knew was bothering him. "And even though Dirk and I will technically be brothers—"

"You're not planning on having kids are you?" you ask him wryly.

Jake snorts, "Daaaaad, you know that's not—"

"I don't care," you assure him.

"Truly?" He asks.

"I am so happy for you and Dirk," you tell him gently. "You found love so early. That's the best thing I could ever have wished for you."

Jake smiles, and it's the best thing you've ever seen. He throws his arms around you, squeezing you almost uncomfortably tightly, and says, "I love you, Dad."

Your second wedding day comes. Your dad is getting up in the years, but he insists on baking the cake again himself. Dave's older bro insists on being the DJ. All your old friends come, and you are so very happy to see them again. Dave looks classy as hell in his tuxedo, and he tells you several times you look pretty snappy yourself in yours. Dirk and Jake tear apart the dance-floor but also aren't afraid to do the slow dances together. When you see Jake place his forehead against Dirk's and mouth to him "I love you," it fills your soul with happiness.

The day passes by again in a blur, but you keep the joyful memories with you forever.

And later that night, when Dave says "I love you," you know for a fact that this is the love you have wanted forever. It's the love you wrote about when you were small. It's the love you felt in the back of your mind your entire life. It's the love you know that Jake and Dirk feel for each other, and that you hope they have forever.

When you tell Dave that you love him back, you know those three small words have never been truer.

After all this time, you guess you haven't changed much since kindergarten.

You love jokes.

You love movies.

You love Dave.


End file.
